


First Impressions

by checkmate



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Date, M/M, Prompt Fic, this is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkmate/pseuds/checkmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First dates are hard, and Bruce is <em>freaking out</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moby/gifts).



> Based on prompt by [Moby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moby): College!AU, Tony and Bruce are going on their first date. Bruce is trying to make it perfect but starts panicking over the little things. Tony assures him it's perfect and then fluff happens.

“How’s yours?” Steve asked, as soon as Barton picked up the phone.

“He’s… Uh, he’s reciting pi.”

Steve blinked, glancing to his left and thinking that perhaps his predicament was not the worst to be in. “Reciting pi?” He repeated, hoping desperately that he had misheard. Tony’s head flicked over to his roommate, a shy grin on his face, before continuing his pacing.

“Uh huh. He says it calms him down when he gets stressed or nervous. He’s been going for about an hour now.”

“An _hour?”_ Steve said incredulously. “Seriously?” Tony stopped pacing completely upon hearing this, and abruptly sat down, cross legged on the floor, and began biting his fingernails. Steve knew this as a habit Tony only showed when he was deep in thought, and also knew, somehow, that Tony’s deep thinking at the moment might just be seeing how many places of pi he could recite.

“What about yours? Is he holding up any better?”

Steve spared another glance across the room and smirked. “Well, he was trying to create a ditch in the floor by means of continuous pacing, but now I think he’s freaking out that someone might know more digits of pi than he does.”

“This relationship is going to be interesting for everyone, isn’t it?” Clint said seriously, before both he and Steve burst out laughing.

“Interesting is certainly one way of putting it. ‘Trying’ might be another.”

“‘Difficult’, maybe?”

“‘Painful for all involved which unfortunately includes us’?”

“What abou- OUCH!” Clint yelped as the distinctive sound of someone getting hit firmly around the head reached Steve’s ears. “Bruce is getting violent. We’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”

* * *

“Fifteen minutes?” Bruce screeched the moment after Clint’s thumb had hit the ‘end call’ button. “Why did you say we’d be there in fifteen minutes? I’m not going to be ready in fifteen minutes!” Bruce began to flap his arms around while jumping from one foot to the other, which is as close to running around like a headless chicken that a person can get in a ten foot square college dormitory.

“Bruce! For God’s sake, calm down!” Clint yelled. Needless to say, Bruce did not calm down in the slightest. “Bruce, stand still or I will tackle you to the ground and there is a half-eaten pizza right there which you may or may not fall in and ruin your suit.” Bruce froze instantly, checking his suit for stains instinctively, and Clint sighed in relief. “Now, take a deep breath.” Bruce did, his cheeks puffed out comically before releasing the air slowly. “The reason I said fifteen minutes was because _you_ told a certain Mr. Stark that you would pick him up at half past seven. And it is currently seven fifteen.”

“ _Shit_!” Bruce swore, loudly enough for the poor people in the neighbouring rooms to hear.  He hurriedly took his glasses off, throwing them aside haplessly before running into the bathroom. Clint frowned, and followed him in- which wasn’t weird because his roommate had failed to shut the door. He was fiddling with a tiny white box that Clint recognised instantly.

“Oh, come off it, Bruce. Are you kidding me?”

Bruce looked up, one hand holding his left eye open and the other one, a contact lens balancing precariously on the tip of his index finger. “What?” He said, looking at Clint in confusion.

Clint groaned. “You are not wearing contact lenses on your first date, Bruce.”

“Wh-”

“Nope.”

“But-”

“I said _no_. Is this one of those stupid insecurity things again?” Clint asked, narrowing his eyes. “No-one gives a shit that you wear glasses. Jeesh, loads of people wear glasses. They don’t make you look stupid or geeky or whatever it is that you are worried about, you idiot.”

Bruce sighed, putting the lens back in its box and placing it back in the little bathroom supplies cupboard. Clint handed over the glasses that he had picked up from the floor, and Bruce put them back on. “I just… It’s _Tony Stark,_ and I really like him. I don’t want to look like a dick.”

Clint shrugged. “That’s exactly what you said before you asked him out, and what happened there? Oh wait, he said yes. Now, stop doubting yourself and go out and get that hot piece of ass before I get tempted myself.”

“Clint, stop, your heterosexuality is smothering me.” Bruce said dryly, snatching up his toothbrush and squirting on some toothpaste.

“Regardless!” Clint said, holding a hand up as if to stop Bruce’s train of thought. “Tony motherfucking Stark agreed to go on a date with you. _You_. Like, messy hair and big hands and geeky glasses and few social skills included. Don’t hide _you_ behind things that you are not.” He said simply.

Bruce turned away from the mirror to stare at him, a sight which Clint would have taken more seriously if he didn’t have toothpaste froth dripping from the corner of his mouth down his chin. He spat into the sink and washed out his mouth before saying, “It is moments like these which make being your friend worth having to live through the sexcapades and the horrible, Monday morning hangovers.”

“Thanks, bro. Now let’s go get you laid.”

“Okay, nope, you’re back. And anyway, I thought you said the glasses weren’t geeky.”

Clint snorted. “Banner, have you _seen_ your glasses? They are the geekiest things to ever be produced by mankind.”

* * *

There was a firm knock on the door at bang on seven thirty, and Steve was ready for it. Tony? Not so much. “Hey Clint! Hey Bruce!” He beamed as he opened the door. “Looking sharp there, Banner. Got someone to impress?”

Bruce smiled weakly, and Steve could see his hands shaking. “Erm, where’s… Um… Tony?” He asked nervously.

“Tony is hiding in the bathroom-” Clint snorted, unable to help himself, and Bruce poked him hard in the arm. “-apparently trying to make his hair look suitably dishevelled with liberal amounts of hair gel. Tony Edward Stark, get your butt in here, you have guests!”

There was silence for a few seconds, filled only by the sounds of someone knocking over several bottles and battling with a rusted door bolt, before Tony emerged into the main room, looking sheepish. “Hi.” He smiled despite himself towards Bruce, who looked as nervous as he felt, but also as happy. 

“Hi.” Bruce repeated then bit his lip awkwardly, glancing real quickly over at Clint, who rolled his eyes and groaned in embarrassment.

“You two are so pathetic, my God.” He stated firmly, before grabbing Steve by the shirt sleeve and physically dragging him from the room. “Have fun, kids!” He shouted, before shutting the door, leaving the two of them alone together.

They both looked at the door their friends had just walked through, then burst out laughing almost simultaneously. “Sorry about him.” Bruce said, wiping his eyes. “He’s kind of… Um… An acquired taste?”

Tony snorted. “I think Steve could be described the same say. No wonder they’re friends.”

“As well as both being incorrigible matchmakers.” Bruce added, smirking. “I guess we’ll see just how good their matching skills are, won’t we?”

Tony turned the door handle and held it open for Bruce, giving a little bow as he did. “You know what? So far, I think they did a pretty good job.”

* * *

Everybody in America, if not in the world, knew the name ‘Stark’, and not just because they all watch Game of Thrones. Howard Stark owned and ran one of the most lucrative international energy firms of all time, and, as a result, his son, Anthony, had never exactly been short of cash.

Bruce, as a citizen of both the USA and Earth, knew this only too well and choosing a place for a date with one of the wealthiest teenagers in the world caused a lot of problems. And once Clint had ruled out going to the cinema as ‘a first date for people who have nothing to talk about’, Bruce’s options were narrow.

He ended up booking a table in a small Italian café turned restaurant just out of town, figuring that however grand and expensive his gesture was, Tony would have seen something better, so why bother spending an entire semester’s allowance? As a regular diner at the place in question, he also knew that no-one was a) going to kick up a fuss about him showing up with a guy and b) going to secretly take pictures of them and sell them to celebrity magazines, so they could publish them in articles proclaiming Tony’s homosexuality, complete with captions including plentiful puns on them ‘getting “Stark” naked’. Peace, privacy and pizza. Done.

When they arrived, one of the waitresses was hovering by the door, itching to show them to their seats. Bruce sent her a quick smile and she beamed back, reassuring him that this was, in fact, a good idea. She even managed to not stare at Tony too much, which was something that couldn’t be said for quite a lot of the other diners, but thankfully, no-one bothered them.

The girl took them to a table by a window, overlooking a small but pretty veranda. There was a candle lit on the table, and a small bouquet of fragrant spring flowers in the centre. Bruce made a mental note to always mention when it was a first date if this was the kind of service you got.

“It’s not much, but, uh…” Bruce said to fill the silence that fell once the waitress had handed them menus and left them to it. “It’s not $200 steaks or you know, anything really fancy, but-”

Tony shushed him, laughing. “You’re really cute, you know that? This place is beautiful, Bruce. Really.” Bruce swore his heart rate dropped from about 200 beats a minute to something a bit closer to normal. “And I’m going to let you in on a little secret, okay?” Tony beckoned for him to lean in, and he did, so Tony could whisper in his ear. “Given a choice between marinated snails in cream sauce and $1000 champagne, and a take out from Domino’s and a beer in front of the TV, I would go for the Domino’s. Every time.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Bruce said, only half joking.

Tony’s eyes crinkled up when he smiled, Bruce noticed. “Do you want to share a starter?” Tony asked, his eyes sweeping down the menu. “Or, on the other hand, we could get one of everything because it all looks so damn tasty.” Bruce laughed honestly, a weight having been lifted off his chest as he had managed to pick a good place for their date.

“I’d love to share a starter, but I’m, um… I’m a vegetarian.” Bruce confessed, and Tony blinked, surprised.

“Huh. Vegetarians can eat cheese though, right?” He asked, and Bruce nodded. “Good, because I would do unspeakable things for that garlic mushroom and gorgonzola starter, you have absolutely no idea.”

“A man after my own heart.” Bruce grinned, not quite believing how _well_ everything was going, especially since he had an unavoidable tendency to screw things like this up. “You just managed to pick my favourite thing on this menu.”

“I guess I’m just psychic.” Tony said mysteriously, taking a sip from his glass of wine.

“I sure hope not.” Bruce mumbled, blushing involuntarily.

“Why?” Tony said, his face lighting up. “What exactly is it you’re thinking right now that you don’t want me to know?” The mischievous look on Tony’s face is almost too cute to be real.

_Only that you’re super adorable and hot and funny and you have great taste in vegetarian starters and I kind of want to kiss you right now._

Bruce shook his head coyly, and fortunately the waitress reappeared to take their order, changing the thread of the conversation entirely.

“Okay, but seriously, can I ask you a deeply important, personal question?” Tony asked half way through his pizza.

“Uh, I guess. Can I reserve the right to pass if it’s too personal?” He asked teasingly.

“No, you have to answer it.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

Tony took an exaggeratedly deep breath. “How many digits can you actually recite pi to?”

Bruce blinked in surprise, not really expecting anything quite along those lines, before cracking up. “Oh my god. You heard Clint and Steve, huh? That’s, um. Embarrassing.” Tony raised an eyebrow, and Bruce sighed. “Fine. But don’t laugh. I had loads of friends in middle school, I swear.” Tony laughed at that- Bruce decided he really liked making Tony laugh. “Three hundred and fifty places. I used to be able to do five hundred, but you lose your skills if you don’t practise.”

“Three hundred and fifty? Seriously?” Tony said, clearly gobsmacked. “What the hell? Okay, you have to recite it for me someday. Please. I’m begging you.”

“Weirdest fetish ever?” Bruce asked, his embarrassment subsiding a little.

“Oh shut up.”

* * *

Tony took the opportunity of Bruce going to the toilet to quickly send a text to Steve.

**this guy is kind of perfect oh my god**

Steve, who was apparently just sitting around with Clint, waiting for updates and squeeing over their ‘relationship’, texted him back immediately.

**he must have the patience of a saint to put up with you for an entire meal. glad you guys are having fun.**

Tony slipped his phone back into his pocket as Bruce reappeared, smiling a lot more boldly than he had when they first arrived. Tony let Bruce pay, mainly because the other boy had insisted, but Tony understood. No matter where the two of them went from here, they had had a great evening, and Bruce wanted to make it special. Tony throwing $75 on the table and calling it quits, wasn’t the same as Bruce, who had significantly less money to throw around, spending it on _them._ Tony vouched to get equal by paying for the next one.

They decided to walk home, and spent the whole time just talking and laughing about the stupid little things. About a mile away from the university building, Bruce held his hand out nervously between them, obviously intending (hoping, praying) for Tony to take it. Which he did. Because this was someone he’d made a real connection with. Someone he genuinely liked from the offset, and that didn’t happen very often. They walked the last part in silence, comfortable with Bruce even when neither of them were talking.

“I had a really great night tonight.” Bruce said quietly, as they stopped outside Tony’s room.

“Me too.” Tony returned, smiling, conscious that their fingers were still wound together in one of the greatest sensations he had ever felt. “Do you want to come in for a bit, maybe?” He asked. “For coffee, or something?”

Bruce snorted. “Did you really just invite me in _for coffee?_ ”

Tony gaped, completely aghast. “Oh, my God, no, I didn’t mean th- Shit, sorry, I-” Bruce was giggling at the expression on his face and squeezed his fingers playfully.

“Next time, maybe. Perhaps, the time after.” He bargained, cocking an eyebrow.

“So there’s going to be a next time?” Tony asked, at least _attempting_ to keep the sound of glee from his voice.

“Of course there’s going to be a next time.” Bruce promised.

And then they were kissing, and Tony doesn’t quite know how it happened. Did he move in first, or did Bruce? And _then_ he lost all power of rational thought, because _Bruce’s hands were in his hair_ and this was no innocent, peck on the lips goodnight kiss, this was fiery and passionate and _I think I might be in love with this guy,_ Tony thought helplessly.

They came up for air eventually, and Bruce’s cheeks were tinted red and he just looked adorable. “I, uh, I kind of really like you, Tony.” He blurted, blushing deeper and looking down at the floor.

Tony used one finger to lift his chin back up. “I kind of really like you, too.” He replied, giving Bruce one final, gentle kiss on the lips, before bidding him goodnight and shutting himself in his room for a good, flailing panic.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is basically the first prompt fic I've ever filled (sort of). Also, the first piece of fluff for this fandom (ever) so yeah. I tried. Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Love, C x


End file.
